[Image via @welleco]
From Shallow Conversations to Walking on Water: An Invitation to Deeper Communication
Imagine that you’ve just arrived at your hotel for a much-needed vacation. You don’t even bother unpacking your suitcase because you have one thing in mind– the pool.
Growing up, you loved to swim so much that you might as well have been a fish, and even now, something comes alive in you any time you’re around water. You don your swimsuit, race through the hotel lobby, and practically take out a couple kids as you jump right into the shallow end of the pool. The cool blue water barely makes it past your knees, but you don’t care. You’re just happy to be able to swim again. Never mind that water this shallow makes swimming next to impossible.
[Image via @welleco]
Suddenly, you’re aware of some snickering going on right beside you. You turn to see some fellow vacationers pointing and laughing at the floaties you’ve strapped on your arms. You wonder what they find so amusing. This is the way you’ve always gone swimming. The shallow end of the pool is comfortable and fun, and your floaties keep you extra safe. As you stand there musing, you overhear someone say, “Why don’t they swim in the deep end? It’s clearly where they belong.”
“The shallow end of the pool is comfortable and fun, and your floaties keep you extra safe.”
For the first time, you take a good, long look at the other end of the pool. There are people of all ages making a grand entrance, with backflips off of the diving board or tsunami-inducing cannonballs. As terrifying as that seems, something buried deep in your soul begins to leap. You start to feel a tug on your heart, as a little voice inside you whispers, “You were made for more than the shallows. Take the plunge into the deep.”
“You were made for more than the shallows. Take the plunge into the deep.”
And cut. Come back with me to reality. I know what you’re thinking: That story makes no sense. What grown man or woman in their right mind would swim in the shallow end of the pool while wearing floaties like a child? That’s so silly. You’re right. It is silly. It’s also exactly how most of us are content to communicate with each other.
Think about it. When we say hello to someone, we often ask, “How are you?”, to which they typically respond, “Good!” or “Fine!” They may even turn the question back on us: “And how are you?”, and we’ll say, “I’m doing well, thanks!” Really? If you’re anything like me, you’re most certainly NOT fine all the time, and I’d venture to guess that the people you’re talking to aren’t either. Chances are, you’re both more content to swim in the shallow end of the pool of conversation where things are safe and predictable than to dive into the deep end of your hurts and worries and doubts.
[Image via @welleco, it reads “R U OK?”]
In other cases, you sit down with a trusted friend for coffee, and you find yourself shooting the breeze for hours, talking about things that won’t matter tomorrow: the weather, the score of last night’s game, or the latest dramatic outburst from one of the Kardashians. It might be fun for a couple hours, but you leave feeling like nothing really got accomplished. Somehow, you said a lot without saying anything at all. If you’re honest with yourself, you know it doesn’t have to be this way. You crave connection and desire depth, and friend, that’s exactly what you’re about to find.
What I’m proposing to you isn’t some quick fix for all of your problems or a cure for shyness or a list of twenty riveting conversation starters. I simply want to show you that we were all made to dive into the deep waters of intimate connection. In fact, I know Someone who’s inviting you to walk on water.
“I simply want to show you that we were all made to dive into the deep waters of intimate connection.”
In Matthew 14, we find a well-known passage that has inspired songs and sermons for centuries. Instead of letting familiarity bore and blind us, let’s look at this text with fresh eyes and insert ourselves in the story. Verse 24 tells us that Jesus’ disciples were in a boat on the lake fighting heavy waves. Have you ever been there, fighting wave after wave of fear, loneliness, or depression, desperate for rescue, convinced that the roaring waters will be the death of you? Or perhaps that friend you meet for coffee is fighting to stay afloat, just waiting for you to throw them a life preserver, to ask how they really are, to be real with them, to go deeper.
After struggling through the storm for a few hours, the disciples saw Jesus coming toward them, but he wasn’t rowing their way in a boat or even swimming. He was walking on the waves! As you can imagine, His followers were more than a little rattled by this. They couldn’t fathom how a human being could possibly do such a thing, so they assumed Jesus was a ghost. Immediately, Jesus set them straight by saying, “Don’t be afraid. Take courage. I am here!” Beloved, I believe He’s speaking the same reassuring words over us today.
If you’re terrified to own up to whatever it is you’re struggling with or resisting the urge to give someone else the space to be vulnerable with you, remember this promise from Jesus from Matthew 18:20, “Where two or three gather in My Name, there I am with them.” If you’re worried about saying the wrong thing to someone who’s hurting or not being able to explain what you’re going through, be encouraged. Jesus tells us in Matthew 10:19-20, “Don’t worry about how to respond or what to say. God will give you the right words at the right time. For it is not you who will be speaking – it will be the Spirit of your Father speaking through you.” That makes those waves look a little less threatening, doesn’t it?
[Image via @welleco]
Let’s take another look at Matthew 14. As it turns out, Jesus wasn’t the only water-walker in this story. Peter called out to Jesus, and Jesus immediately asked him to come to where He was. Just like that, Peter leapt over the side of the boat, right onto the crest of a wave! And then another! And another! Perhaps you’re thinking, “Of course Peter could do something like that. He was in Jesus’ inner circle. Total VIP status. But me? If Jesus knew the things I’ve done, He wouldn’t think twice about letting me stay in the boat. He wouldn’t want to use me.”
Consider Peter’s track record with me for a moment: He was rash, impulsive, and pretty insecure most of the time. This same man that met Jesus amidst the waves would later deny knowing Him three times. Yet, even knowing all this, Jesus told Peter, “You are the rock, and on this rock, I will build My Church,” (Matthew 16:18).
Jesus saw past Peter’s failures and flaws and breathed life into who he would become. Because He does the same with us today, we don’t need to enter the depths of vulnerable conversation in fear. The waves may seem daunting, but with our eyes fixed on Jesus, we can scale them with ease. When we ask Him to take us farther than we’ve ever ventured, He will always say, “Yes, come.” Even if we falter, He is quick to take us by the hand, ever attentive, ever strong for us, never allowing us to drown. So what are you waiting for, beloved? With Jesus as your guide, you’ll be able to navigate the tides of real, impactful conversation with more bravery than you ever thought possible. Don’t settle for the shallows of small talk. You were made to walk on water.
“Don’t settle for the shallows of small talk. You were made to walk on water.”
Sarah Grace Bloyd
Sarah Grace is a worship leader and writer with a big voice, big dreams, and an even bigger heart for serving Jesus and loving people. She holds a Bachelors of Arts from Asbury University where she pursued a major in Worship Arts with an emphasis in Music. Currently residing in Louisville, Kentucky, Sarah Grace is the Elementary Secretary at Christian Academy of Louisville, and she spends her free time writing poetry and Christian non-fiction that she hopes to compile into books, devotionals, and Bible studies. Her ever-evolving, God-given dreams include doing missions work in England and giving a voice to the voiceless through her speaking and writing. To read more of her work, visit sarahgracebloyd.com.